


Why Are You Crying

by HazelNMae



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: A little angst, F/M, but then fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 03:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelNMae/pseuds/HazelNMae
Summary: Written for Anon on the prompt “…Why am I crying?”





	Why Are You Crying

You felt your face flush and your heart rate rise as you marched down the street. You turned the corner and picked up your pace. Before you knew it, you were running, full sprint.

You had to get away, unable to take his presence a moment longer.

You’d walked out in anger, but you ran now in pain.

When you finally stopped at the corner by the Garrison, you burst forth in a sob, no longer able to contain the hurt and too exhausted to try.

You entered the pub, deciding it’d be best to catch your breath and compose yourself inside. You doubted he was following you, but you didn’t want to take the chance that he’d find you standing outside in such a state.

Harry poured you a double whiskey, knowing from the site of you that it was needed. Without exchanging a word, you sat in the pub, drinking faster than you should and letting the whole debacle play out again in your head.

It had happened like this:   
May Carlton had surprised Tommy–had walked straight into the offices and past your desk without even acknowledging you. She closed the door behind her after entering Tommy’s office, making a show of the “private moment” she was about to share with him.

They’d been in the office for almost an hour before she emerged, flushed and no longer wearing her coat, hat, or gloves. She smiled at you, knowingly, before leaving.

You assumed her behavior was for your benefit, as Tommy hadn’t kept your newly formed relationship a secret from anyone. You knew about his past with May, but had chosen to trust that he could be faithful, despite the rumors you’d heard around town.

You kept your cool, at first, not even mentioning the meeting until Tommy brought it up.

“Can you prepare these documents for May?” he’d asked, bringing you a folder with various paperwork inside.

“May?”

“Yes, Ms. Carlton,“ he responded, as if you didn’t know her first name.

“Since when is she ‘May’ to you?”

Tommy just looked at you, staring intently as if he expected some other response. He clearly wasn’t going to let you goad him into a fight.

“It’s just, you two seem awfully close,” you said, lowering your head and fidgeting with the buttons on your shirt. In truth, you were ashamed to feel so jealous. But you also couldn’t help it. You’d fallen hard and fast for this man and were terrified to have your heartbroken. If he were going to be an ass, you’d rather know that now so you could break it off before it broke you.

“It seems that way because we are,” was all he said in response.

_Fuck_, you thought,_ this is it._

“That can’t come as a surprise to you, (Y/N). Surely you know about my history with May.”

You were grateful he didn’t deny it, having too much respect for your intelligence than to believe he could lie to you. But you were also hurt he said it so openly, wondering if he had the same level of respect for your feelings.

“I do,” you said as you steeled yourself for what came next. “Can you tell me it’s really history, though?”

And as if things couldn’t get worse, Tommy said nothing.

His silence was all the response you needed. You flew from his office, grabbed your purse, and marched out into the street.

Just as Harry poured your second glass of whiskey, Tommy entered the pub.

In true dramatic fashion, the air fell still with his presence.

You just rolled your eyes. The whiskey was igniting a new sensation in you–one of anger–and you were growing weary of the bullshit.

“(Y/N),” he said, standing at the bar beside you. “I think you got the wrong impression–,”

He paused, looking now at your face and noting your features. Red eyes, damp nose, flushed cheeks.

“(Y/N), why are you–”

“–why am I crying?” You said scoffed. “Why the fuck do you think, Tommy?”

You turned back toward the bar. “Jesus, I thought you were _smart_,” you added.

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

He stepped closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“May Carleton and I are history. I need her in the way I need all of my business associates, but that’s it. She’ll come in and out of my life, but only as is necessary for business.”

"And today was _necessary for business_?” You asked, rolling your eyes as you looked away.

“Aye,” he said, lifting a finger to your chin and turning your face back to yours. “I told you how I feel about you. Nothing happened with May today, and it never will again.“

You just looked into his eyes, those same eyes that had mesmerized you the moment you met him. You often wondered if Tommy understood the pull his eyes could have on another person.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

You thought that over for a moment, not really sure of your answer. You wanted to trust him. You wanted to give yourself fully to him and to believe he wouldn’t let you down. But you also knew better than to move through this relationship blind to the truth–that Tommy Shelby would do whatever it took to find success for his business and for his family.

“I want to,” you responded.

“That’s good enough for me.”

He pulled you into a passionate kiss, letting his arms wrap around your waste. Your first instinct was to pull away, but the sensation of his kiss, and the healthy amount of whiskey you’d consumed so quickly, took over instead. You leaned into him, grabbing his lapels in an attempt to pull him even closer.

When he finally did pull away, you slapped at his shoulder. "Goddamn you, Tommy Shelby,” you said through a smile.

He was right. If you were going to give this a go, you had to learn to trust him.

“Come on then,” he said, helping you off the stool and pulling you into his chest. “I think we’ve got some making up to attend to.”


End file.
